


Reoccurring

by Paperbackprint



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Children, Eventual Romance, M/M, Multi, Soul Bond, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-07 15:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10364019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperbackprint/pseuds/Paperbackprint
Summary: When Harry met five year old Tom Riddle his major concern was how to get back to Surrey before his relatives figured out what happened. But maybe Harry should of been thinking about the strange occurrences that happen around him rather than his uncle Vernon's anti-magic propaganda.





	1. Merry introduction

_The chapter where Harry changes the schemes of time and saves a murder victim_

**REOCCURRING**

**Chapter One PART I** _  
_

"He went this way!" Yelled out one of the pudgy snot nosed children trying to track Harry down and unfortunately they were well on the right track. Cursing under his breath Harry ungracefully picked himself up from the tree he'd thought perfect to hide behind and took to running through the school quad.

"We've got you now, Hair-ball!" It was his dear cousin Dudley heckling him, creatively with a nickname other than the generic 'freak' or 'baby' he tended to use.

One of the boys started screaming out in a Tarzan inspired gurgle. Harry, being uncomfortable with close range of such a savage scream peeked over his shoulder to see how much distance they had on him. To his wide eyed shock the monkey screaming ape boy was holding a long stick and was attempting to javelin Harry.

"Oh my god..." He could not believe no teachers were intervening, the school board loved to boast about their zero tolerance policy to such misconduct. In his attempt to pick up the pace Harry could feel a sudden jump to his step. A jump that didn't quite hit the ground. He thought he was going to fall and then suddenly his whole body squeezed in tight. He could not possibly hit the ground now. With immense frustration and fatigue Harry squeezed his eyes tight to prepare for the impact.

"Hey!" A little voice squealed out. Harry opened his eyes and saw he'd knocked over a tiny kid. He looked around himself dazedly. The trio of bullies were nowhere to be seen. But neither was his school. Perplexed, he scratched his neck.

"What the- where am I?" He stared about, utterly confused and just a tad terrified.

"Where are you? More like who are you! This is private property." Harry looked down at the little twerp and saw the ruffled thing picking himself up. He felt some guilt for having been the one to knock the much smaller kid over.

"Sorry..." He muttered. He meant it too, he never had the intention to become like his cousin Dudley anytime soon and knock whoever and whatever was in his way with no remorse.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I am?" Harry rephrased himself, this time talking directly to the scrawnier child. The boy sniffed at his late apology and brushed down his tweed shorts. He looked at Harry in a moment of silence causing him to shift uncomfortably. Harry sighed, realising he probably wasn't going to get a proper response. The boy he questioned was so small that he must barely be in the first grade. He then picked himself up from the dirt patch he had been occupying and looked around his new surroundings.

He looked to be in what was a relatively old institutional building with a spiked metal fence surrounding the premises. He was in London for sure, this was definitely inner city architecture. It lacked the gentle suburban homeliness of Little Whinging. He groaned and face palmed. How could he possibly explain this one? His relatives will well and truly kill him this time. Disappearing into the city right in front of so many spectators. There was no reasonable explanation, and he had no idea how to get home. He had no money nor did he know anyone.

"You just appeared out of no where." The little voice stated bluntly and might Harry also add, unnecessarily. He let them off the hook because they were only a kid.

"Yes and you still haven't told me where I am." He stated back just as bluntly.

"But maybe you could direct me the nearest police station?" He added on hopefully. The boy shook his head. But Harry only then realised something deeply unsettling. In the dark haired boys hand gleamed a sharp silver knife, the butchering-slicing kind not the buttery good kind. He looked at the boy warily and then saw behind him was the open hatch of a bunny house.

"You know, it's not safe to leave rabbit doors open. They might escape." He said calmly but his eyes kept pivoting between the knife and the rabbit.

"Oh silly me." The boy said lamely and knelt down to close the hatched door. Just at that moment the brave rabbit made a daring leap for freedom and hop-hop-hopped far away, Harry let out the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. God speed little rabbit, where ever you go may it be safer and more fulfilling than the fate this child had in store for you. Harry resisted waving the rabbit off as the younger boy clenched his teeth looking absolutely livid.

"You did that." He said venomously through clenched teeth. Harry gaped.

"I did that? You were going to kill a rabbit weren't you?" The little boy tucked the knife into his shorts before turning to walk away.

"I think you've overstayed your welcome here. I'm getting the matron, don't even think about leaving." He toddled off leaving Harry to huff. He was certain there was something deeply wrong with that kid. He didn't care what the child was saying, he would find a police station without him. Just as he began he journey out of the steel gates when the high pitched trickle of that little boys voice came withing range.

"Him! He's the trespasser!" it squealed. Harry peeked over, standing by the child was a stern and very concerned looking lady. He didn't like his odds with the neatly dressed woman whom had not a single hair out of place. He suspected she would surely think he was up to no good as most people did tend to assume about him. Was it his terrible luck or the horrible public image the Dursley's had crafted for him he didn't know. But just because he didn't know meant that he wanted to hang around and find out. He picked up the pace with no intention of ever looking back.

"Look out!" She called out to him. She too started a more quicker stride. Against his better judgement Harry looked back and saw both the woman and child staring aghast at his feet. He too looked down as he took his next very careful step and there beneath him was a large gaping black hole.

"Oh my lord Jesus Christ." Were his final words before he sunk into the very dark foreboding abyss of shadows. The young boy, Tom Riddle and the matron, Mrs Cole both stood in impending silence.

"It seems the lord is playing tricks with my eyes, I could swear I saw young boy disappear into the ground." Mrs Cole hesitated.

"There was a boy Mrs Cole. I saw him go into the ground too." Tom Riddle claimed albeit naively. She tsked at him in response.

"Nonsense boy, that is impossible. Perhaps you are as tired as me." She turned to leave but paused by the rabbit cage with the latched door still hanging open and a fluffy white bunny missing.

"What is the meaning of this! Where is Billy's rabbit!" She looked at Tom in accusation but he was not moved.

"That boy came here and stole the rabbit ma'am. That's why I tried to get you here before he got away..." He looked at his feet bashfully.

Tom may be a good liar but at this point Mrs Cole was almost just as good as sniffing out children's fibs. Just the day previously Tom and Billy Stubbs had been involved in a particularly vicious fight, how convenient for the rabbit to go missing now. But she couldn't deny that there had been a boy here just moments ago who seemed very keen to escape her. There really was no telling what he had been up to or what his intentions had been. She tapped her feet and shook her head. None the less, one of orphans had lost a beloved pet and she didn't have the means to replace it.

"Bring Billy here at once so I can explain the situation, Tom." He hesitated for a moment before he nodded and took off in a fast pace. Poor poor Billy Stubbs. But given what fate had laid in store young Billy would of been happy with this turn of events over the alternative of a snowy white bunny hanging from the rafters swinging side to side from the gentle gust of the wind.

Harry fell ass first onto the grassy field he instantly recognised as his school quad where his cousin and co were chasing him just moments earlier. Only now it wasn't early afternoon, the sun had taken to rest with a hue of pinks and deep oranges streamlining the ever so darkening sky. Groaning he stood up and rubbed his aching lower back. At least there would be nothing he'd need to explain to his aunt and uncle anymore, except maybe why his backpack is still sitting in the classroom. But hey, maybe they won't even notice.

He started for 'home' and heard the sound of little thumps behind him. He stopped. The thump stopped too. He took another step. Thump. Step. Thump. Step- He turned around suddenly.

"You!" It was the little white rabbit who avoided a their fate as a stab victim. Harry picked the little thing up and it was surprising placid.

"There's no way I could take you home, I'd have nowhere to keep you." He put the rabbit down but hesitated.

"Ughhh" He groaned and picked the fluff ball back up and marched out of the school.

* * *

 

 **Chapter One PART II** _  
_

_The Repercussions of Mr Billy Stubbs Rabbit._

Petunia was suspicious. Something was definitely lurking in her garden. Little nibbles were left evident on rose petals and she knew just the vermin that was doing it.

"Vernon dear you must do something about this rabbit problem." Harry shriveled away trying to play it nonchalant, never taking his eyes off the eggs currently sizzling in the pan.

"If I should have a rabbit I would name him Thumper." Dudley declared to his parents in a plea for attention they gently ignored. "Of course Duddy-kins." Petunia brushed her hands over his shoulders and then turned back to her husband whose nose was stuck sorely into his newspaper.

"But back to the problem. These pests are wrecking havoc on my garden! Spring is coming in and all my flowers are ruined. I bet that Mrs Smith is simply jumping for glee every time she walks her god forsaken dog down our street." At the mention of Mrs Smith the wife of Mr Smith a coworker of Vernon's who competed with him heavily for sales and therefore Vernon's marginal profits. he slammed his paper down.

"A pest problem you say, I'll get the poison and lay it out tonight after work. No rabbit is going to make us look like fools." Petunia simply gushed. "Oh Vernon, you're getting an extra special meal tonight."

Harry was no fan of his aunt or uncle but although relatively irritating and repulsive in the manor of how they treated Harry (his five star accommodation under the stairs and reputation wrecked with rumor which was completely made up) he had to appreciate that they did indeed have a strong marriage. While kids at school were having their family's broken up from each direction Harry had never actually seen his aunt and uncle have an argument past a minor disagreement which was either about how they will punish Harry or which pair of socks Dudley should be wearing to Church and why didn't anyone chuck out those damned lime green and yellow polka dot bathroom curtains before Marge's critical eye fell upon them.

When Vernon got home that evening with the poison in hand he came home to an anxious looking Petunia standing out in the front yard and his dear boy Dudley sitting plump on the ground with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Dad! Dad! I called him Thumper, isn't that a great name?" Petunia looked mere moments from fainting and Vernon scratched his head hesitantly before getting back into his car and pulling out of the driveway. The next day Mrs Smith would be seen walking her dog affectionately named after pastry called Danish on his typical morning route. They'd be caught pausing next to the brown wooden rabbit cage where Danish decided to do his business. Thumper chose wisely not to leave his little hidey-hole in the corner.

* * *

 

Harry had never felt more fond of his cousin, Dudley. Which really wasn't saying much. Previously his admiration for Dudley was approximately -1. No real ill feelings other than annoyance and perhaps a little envy at other times. But right now as he sees Dudley run outside every morning to feed his rabbit his respect for the plump boy was hitting well in the 5 scale. 5/100. That's up 6 points! As if sensing someone was watching him Dudley turned around a looked at Harry peeking through the window and his face soured. "Keep frying eggs you dweeb!" Harry just sighed and shook his head. Maybe it's more like 4/100.

Christmas was fast approaching so for the Dursley's this was a particularly big day. Today they would be getting their family photo at 'Peter's Photo's and Memoirs'. Harry of course would not be partaking in this honored family tradition and instead would be staying at the neighborhoods very own cat lady personality, Mrs Figg. He personally had no qualms with this as he'd rather look at her cat photography rather than sit in the busy shopping centre and play the part bag-boy for his extended family.

Sure enough when they dropped him off at the oddly cabbage scented house, Mrs Figg was more than pleased to show him her album of cats that had neither increased nor decreased in size since his last visit. After the last painstaking page she relinquished him from her claws and let Harry play outside.

Glad to be free, he sat in her rather nice outdoor lounge swing and just admired the vines wrapping themselves intricately around the metal structure with tiny purple flowers budding out on occasion. It was a little cold so he was glad Mrs Figg made him a hot chocolate so that he could enjoy clasping his hands around the steaming, warm cup.

Last week he had been chased by Dudley and his beastly friends. Last week he ended up in that strange scenario with the petulant little boy and the stern looking matron. Thankfully none of his shenanigans has made it back to his aunt and uncle. Better yet, the rest of the week had gone by rather smoothly with the perk of a little fluffy rabbit joining the family and he had no absolutely no blame for it. He chuckled. Thank god.

Standing up, Harry sculled down the rest of his hot chocolate. The biggest perk of being sent to Mrs Figg's was the treats she gave him. Although awaiting him inside she would have most certainly pulled out another cat album it was just as likely she would have also cut him a slice of lemon curd sponge cake and made a pot of tea. The pros truly did outweigh the cons.

He made his way back into the warm, cabbage scented house. But of course Harry wouldn't be so lucky as to just waltz right back into Mrs Figg's house. Clumsily, he tripped over a tree who's roots were just barely peeking out of the ground in a mischievous manner.

"It's you again." It was the sweet ring of a child's voice. Harry instantly recognised it. His eyes that were squinted shut snapped open to reveal a plain white ceiling. He groaned and rubbed his aching head as he lifted his back from a rather hard wooden floor. Sitting in a single bedded cot was the little kid from before but now he looked... so much bigger. He was no doubt still a child but before where he probably only reached up to Harry's waist he was now looked like he could stare eye to eye with Harry.

"That's impossible, you can't be that same boy." Harry was wide eyed and awed. Shocked, confused and incredibly worried that he was back in this situation. The boy, Tom stood from his bed a crouched down next to Harry. "Mrs Cole doesn't believe you're real." Mrs Cole? "She's pretending what ever happened that day was a trick from God to test her faith." Tom leaned even closer to Harry who instantly felt the reflex to back away.

"But I'm never wrong. I knew you were real. Who are you?" The boys stare was so incredibly intense. Though he was bigger than the little boy from last week the similarities were uncanny. But no. This was impossible, this was completely illogical. Children don't age so much in just one week! Boys also don't teleport every time they bloody trip over a twig.

"I don't suppose you have a younger brother?" Harry knew it was a stupid question. Tom didn't deem him with a reply and continued to stare at him expectantly. "Harry." he sighed. "My name is Harry." "Tom." He stated but his eyes never wavered. "How is it you didn't age a day since your visit when I was five years old?" He reached out and gripped Harry's chin, turning the bespectacled boys head from side to side. "All you're missing is the dirt."

"It's only been a week." Harry uttered. Tom shook his head. "For me it has been five years. You're a vivid memory of my childhood." He stood up."It makes no sense that you shouldn't change." Tom tilted his head. It seemed he was just as perplexed as Harry.

Harry shook his head. As unusual as this situation was he didn't have time to sit here and ponder. He stood up. "What's most important for me Tom is that I get back to Little Whining." He needed to get back into Mrs Figg's back garden before she could question where he has gone and more importantly before the Dursley's came to collect him. He suspected, based on previous experiences that they would probably be at Figg's house by around 5pm. It was just hitting lunch time when he was heading into the house so he approximately had three hours to get back if he was lucky.

"And I suppose you want me to tell you where the police station is?" Tom remarked. He nodded his head slowly. "Unless you have some money to give me so I can catch a train back to Surrey I think that is the best option." Harry replied and got a snort in response. "Never have I head of someone asking an orphan for money. Forget it, The nearest police station is a forty minute walk from here. That's assuming you're quick on your feet." Tom went back to his bed and took a seat. "Why don't you just use your powers to go back?" He stated bluntly.

Harry frowned. Powers? Does he mean that magic that his uncle continues to damn and deny the existence of. "Don't look so coy. You obviously got here somehow. Just use it to go back home." Tom leaned back on his arms and continued to study Harry. "I was walking and I tripped... do you think I just need to trip again?" Harry bit his lip. He felt dirty at the idea of even trying to mimic the repercussions of his freakishness. The things he did that he tried to withhold. "I suppose that could work."

Taking that as a positive response Harry promptly threw himself at the hard wooden floor and received a barking laugh in response. Flushed he stood up and threw his arms back indignantly.

"You said that would work!" He cried out. Tom scoffed. "I said that could work not that it would work. That was all your own doing." He lifted his hand and instantly Harry's glasses floated off his nose and rode the air in a swish swosh manner into Tom's own grasp.

"Hey!" He made a grab to take his spectacles back but poorly misjudged the distance and instead made a hasty snatch at the nothing. Tom placed the glasses back onto the bridge of Harry's nose. "Stuff like that comes naturally to me. I can recognise the feeling and use it at will. If you had any decent common sense you'd of understood that's what I meant."

Harry was still upset about being coaxed into tripping himself and of having his glasses taken from him unwittingly but there was some logic to Tom's words that he did understand. When he fell both those times he had felt light on his feet. He has feel palpitations from his heart ringing throughout his body and most of all he had felt tight. Like something was pushing and pulling and twisting him and he just wanted to pop.

Clenching his fists and biting his lip he tried to hone in those feeling but nudda-zilch, nothing. "Tom, it's not working." He looked up in disappointment but the other boy looked anything but disappointed, he looked ecstatic. "Harry, beneath you. It's happening." He looked down. A tiny hole had formed and grew steadily until simply he fell through.

"Harry! There you are. How can you stand being out in the cold for so long, you will catch your death out here!" Mrs Figg had peeked out of her back veranda door to see Harry sitting solidly on the ground. It was beginning to snow so she had grown concerned. "Come in now dear. I made some tea." Harry nodded, he was dazed. He couldn't possibly be doing magic could he? But it's not real. He stared bitterly at the tree whose pesky roots had tripped him. Instantly the roots snapped and the stands stuck out like a wire that had been ripped. Dread filled him, dread and excitement. What else could he do?


	2. Bucky's Button Eye

**Chapter II**

_Harry retrieves the answers he wasn't looking for._

It'd been two weeks since Harry had been through the ordeal with the strange pale boy, Tom. There were too many unsolved questions around the strange phenomenon and although curious he wasn't sure if he wanted to seek the answers. Tom unnerved him, was it because he had aged five years in one week? Probably. But it was also because in those intense dark eyes held something more sinister than Harry had experienced before. A loss of innocence that every child seemed to have and some even carried it through their adolescence.

 Tom had hinted that he was approximately Harry's own age but to Harry he felt so much older. Tom was decades away from the child that was five years younger. Although both variants of the boy were detached in some form or another Harry could certainly claim the younger version of Tom certainly had something more boisterous about him that his older counterpart has lost. He considered for a moment perhaps Tom was always a psychopath and maybe the energetic vibe from the younger Tom was simply because Harry had caught him right before he slaughtered Thumper. This theory wasn't impossible.

Harry hummed in reflection. From the moment he had consciously snapped those tree roots in Mrs Figg's back yard he'd felt somewhat liberated. That was him, it wasn't a supernatural accident that occurred by some unwanted chance. Perhaps to others that display of power would seem minuscule but to Harry it felt huge, a physical representation of what he was capable of and it exhilarated him.

When night would fall and he was locked in his cupboard at a curfew of 8:30pm Harry no longer had to waste his time doing nothing until he finally felt he could drift away, instead he preferred to toy with this acknowledgment of _magic._ He'd focus on his pillow and watch it quiver and shake until the seams ripped ripped around the edges. Although intriguing it wasn't quite what he wanted to achieve. So far it seemed that all Harry could do was break things and considering he was the unpaid man-servant to the Dursley's (he refused to admit he was a slave with board) this was perhaps not the greatest skill set for him to strive for. It was to his slight disappointment that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get things to fly like Tom had.

Harry had never tried to go back to Tom during the two weeks, he had been more focused on snapping flower stems and shaking rocks until they cracked. But it was today in his aunt Petunia's garden while wearing her oversized weeding gloves that as he tried to focus on having the weeds pull themselves out of the ground he felt that crushing need to give up and stop trying when he can't succeed. He continued to sit there and stare at these weeds, relentlessly willing in heart heart and muttering under his breath for them to disengage themselves from the soil.

“ _Out. Out. Out.”_ Although a mere whisper the struggle and the intent was all there. Some of the weeds responded to him and stretched out, looking incredibly tense but never ripping from the ground. He just couldn't seem to get the results he required. It was frustrating and it was then and only then that he considered Tom. Tom had the answers that he longed for and that need outweighed the natural repulsion he felt towards the mysterious boy.

 He closed his eyes in tight and tried to mimic that foreign feeling of being pulled out and squeezed down. His brows furrowed in concentration until he felt a tight pull in his stomach and nauseousness wash over him. Saliva ran into his mouth like water, Harry was certain he would vomit. Through the blurry haze of trying to control the contents of his stomach from escaping a familiar voice called out to him.

“Harry?” His eyes flickered open and sure enough it was the very same pale skinned boy he had been looking for. Little had changed about Tom this time, except perhaps the clothes he was wearing.

“Tom I need to know how you made my glasses float.” Harry wasted no time in asking. But as he looked to Tom the other boy seemed utterly confused. He reached out and touched Harry's shoulder as if he was checking if Harry was physically there. Harry frowned, he didn't know what he was expecting when making his attempt at seeking Tom out but shoulder caresses were at the bottom of the list, and this was a pretty big list of possibilities. Tom had never given him the vibe that he particularly touchy person. Harry took his eyes off the offending hand on his shoulder and looked at his new surroundings.

It was the very same bedroom he'd appeared in two weeks ago only now it seemed blurrier ... the colours were not as vivid if that was possible. Suddenly from behind him a tall wooden closet burst into flames, yelping in surprise he clutched at the other boy before immediately letting him go. Slightly flushed in embarrassment he looked at the Tom closely.

“Did you do that?”

Tom shook his head in negative.

 “I'm dreaming Harry, I've been having this dream over and over again.” He approached the burning closet and opened the doors, ignoring the flickering orange flames. “All because of these.” laying beneath hangers was a stuffed teddy bear, a picture book about cats and a tin box. Harry frowned.

“What's wrong with them?” He asked.

“There's nothing wrong with any of them.” Tom looked at Harry. “I took them from some other orphans. You could say they are stolen.” He admitted and picked up the teddy bear. It was apparent an eye had been missing from the bear but this flaw was charmingly covered up with an oversized button.

“It's not like I really wanted them, but those other kids loved these items so much I just feel this urge to take it away from them.” He put it back down and shrugged. “I never thought about it twice but something happened last week and because of these I feel uneasy.” Harry opened his mouth and closed it again, he had no idea what to say. He personally can't condone stealing but he also came here to ask Tom to teach him something, was now really the time to scold him?

 “Can't you just return them?” Harry queried. Tom shook his head.

“It's too late. I've been caught red handed. Giving them back will do nothing for me now.” He glanced to Harry and pursed his lips. “Harry, are you real?” He looked almost hesitant. Harry blinked at him. “About as real as everyone else … I think so anyway.” Tom's eyebrows furrowed.

“But I'm dreaming. I haven't seen you for a year and now you're here?” he brushed a hand through his already perfectly neat hair.

“How can I know I'm not imagining you Harry?” Harry hesitated, now questioning his own sanity. Every time he saw Tom he was older, and to appear in someone's dream, that was definitely impossible. And as a suddenly relisation smacked him aggressively across the subconscious, Harry gripped at his face in horror. “I'm insane.” He stated, his nails began to sink into his cheeks.

“Oh my god, I'm crazy. Magic isn't real, I'm imagining everything.” He sank to to his knees as breath escaped him.

 “Magic is real Harry, there's a whole school for it. You're special like me. Maybe you're a ghost, I've been reading about them. Do you remember how you died, Harry?” Harry shook his head in denial.

“No I'm crazy, I must still be asleep.” Tom crouched besides Harry and stared him down, Harry stared back wide eyed and weary.

“You're certain you're not a ghost?” Tom asked him and Harry nodded slowly, there was no way he could be a ghost. He'd be haunting Dudley around the school block instead of getting peas flinged at him during dinner.

“I want you to tell me where you live Harry.” He stated. Harry tilted his head.

“If you tell me where you live I'll come and leave this-” He picked up the button eyed teddy bear “- where ever you want.” Harry looked at Tom and the bear.

“You'd really do that?” His voice came out a little broken and he hated it. Tom nodded.

“It'd answer a few things for the both of us.” Harry nodded in agreement.

“I live in Little Whining, Surrey. My house would be a bad a idea...” He trailed off. He'd never had visitors before and he wasn't sure he wanted to start having them now. With his aunt, unlce and cousin out to get him there were too many unstable factors. He wouldn't put it against his aunt to be petty enough to simply pretend he didn't exist if another young boy knocked on there door looking for Harry. 'Harry, no Harry has ever lived here, you must have the wrong house.'

“My school would be a better idea- there's only one primary school. It's Little Whining Public School.” He added and Tom contemplated it, probably wondering why he couldn't just go straight to Harry's house but didn't voice his curiosity and instead agreed.

 Harry's primary school was close to the railway station. Much closer than his house would be so in someways it was more convenient for Tom. They decided that Tom would float the bear up into a tall willow tree that stood out on the school quad like a sore thumb so it'd be easy for Tom to identify it.

“But how are you going to get there? I don't want you to waste your money to catch a train just to put a bear in a tree.” Harry felt guilty, it wasn't fair that Tom had to go the extra mile for the both of them. Tom shrugged off Harry's consideration. “It'll be fine, I can just hide from the conductor.”

 As Harry felt the jumpy light fear of anxiousness leave him something new and foreign came over him. It was single flutter in his heart. He felt touched, never had anyone done something for him that could equal what Tom was offering. A penniless orphan, willing to travel and hour out of the city just to put a bear in a tree to prove to Harry that he wasn't crazy. Harry of course never took into consideration Tom's own curiosity to Harry's peculiar situation.

 Tom stood back up and moved away. “Now you came here because you wanted to learn how I took your glasses from you?” Harry also got up and nodded eagerly, traces of his previous break down now a thing of the past. Now he was struggling to push down the surging feeling of possibly made his first friend. A friend who very well could be just a figment of his imagination- bad Harry! No more of this negative thinking until you see the empty tree trunks.

 

* * *

 

 

When he returned back to Surrey no time at all had passed. This was a new circumstance as every other time he had seen Tom it seemed like he has skipped an entire day. He could still see his aunt through the kitchen window putting away the dishes he had washed. She didn't bat an eye at him. With his new found knowledge of levitation he focused on a spoon that was still drying on the rack. Petunia froze. The gleaming silver spoon danced merrily up into the air. She looked out the window immediately to Harry where he just as quickly pretended to still be weeding the garden. When looking back to the spoon it laid innocently on the bench undisturbed. Slowly she picked it up but a shrewd eye remained on Harry. “After you've finished with the garden I want you vacuuming the lounge room!” She snapped. Harry didn't respond but a small smile tugged at his lips. It was worth it.

For the rest of the weekend Harry spent it on his hands and knees working rigorously on the house hold chores that the Dursley's set out for him. And while other children were dreading the end to their weekend, Harry simply couldn't wait to go back to school. The need for Monday to just hurry up and arrive sat with him like an itch on his foot. Impossible to scratch through his shoes even though it was within reach.

When the sun finally arose on Monday morning Harry was out that door the second he finished washing the grit of bacon from the blackened pans. In his mad dash to get to the playground he has successfully arrived a good half an hour early, Harry bee-line for the willow tree whose roots raised from the ground as if protection from the pesky children that run amuck the school.

It was much to his dismay that he saw no bear. He looked around the tree, perhaps it fell down. Still nothing. He circled the tree until the bell for class rang and with a flushed face and sunken heart he contemplated the likeliness of Tom's existence. He spent the day in class especially glum and his lunch time just staring at the willow tree. Dudley hadn't approached him once today, this should be one of his better days but he didn't feel like he was 100% there.

 It was at the end of the day when he was putting his text book away one of his classmates, Annabelle, stood up abruptly and gripped her friends jumper.

“My wallet! I can't find my wallet!” Her friend gripped her back looking just as shocked.

“Oh my god, is it in your bag?” Annabelle shook her head irrationally.

“I just checked, I had five pounds still in there!” Her friend gasped.

“I'll help you search the class before you go to lost property, okay?” Annabelle drooped in gratitude although she still looked bleary eyed. Zipping his bag up Harry felt hope rising in him again. He tried beating it down, lower his expectations as to not get disappointed. How didn't he think of lost property before!

The 'lost property' was really just a crate in the sick bay. It mostly consisted of school hats, some sports clothes and a pencil case here and there. As he was digging through he found 0 bears. He gave up. Tom either didn't bother coming or wasn't real. Which really when he thought about it made more than enough sense, he had aged five years in a week. An embarrassed flush began to rise and crushed him more the further he thought about it.

“Ahem.”

Someone cleared there voice rather loudly from behind him. It was the sick bays nurse, an aging plump woman.

“Mr Potter. What is it you're ransacking the lost property box for?” She sounded obviously suspicious but he didn't blame her. From what he could tell the Dursley's had really built up his reputation as a delinquent kid in the neighborhood.

“I'm looking for a teddy bear ma'am. One with a large button eye.” He told her honestly. She folded her arms, giving him a weird look.

“You couldn't possibly mean- wait here for a moment will you.” She sped off with a slight wobble to her step. Sure enough she returned with the optically challenged bear. “That's it!” He exclaimed and she shook her head with a stern frown sitting on her face stubbornly.

“Nonsense. This bear has been in this school longer than I've been working here. It's become a mascot for the office. Why you thought you it would be in the lost and found is beyond me.” She held the bear closer and stared at Harry suspiciously.

“You'd best go home before you worry your poor aunt. You cause her enough trouble as it is.” She made a turn to leave but Harry was certain that was the exact bear. Predictably the nurse walked straight to the main office, probably returning the bear, so rather than going home on her suggestion he instead chose to loiter around a couple more minutes before he stalked after her and peeked through the open door way. His objective was sitting idly on top of a metal filing cabinet. Although he was rough at the whole floating thing he managed to snatch the bear and make a dash for it.

That evening when the administration assistant had finally knocked out the extra paper work the new school term had brought, he stretched out lazily and packed his laptop bag. He went to switch the light off, being the last person to remain in the office.

“See you tomorrow Bucky!” He called out, but never once looked at the missing bear on the filing cabinet. The school wouldn't notice Bucky's disappearance until the Christmas party in three months.

Harry knew for certain this was the very same bear. He sat in his cupboard holding it in the air studying the thread keeping the button stitched perhaps too hard. Harry was beginning to draw out a fairly obviously conclusion. Tom was from the past, he didn't know how long ago Tom had visited the school to place the bear in the tree but the nurse at the sickbay had been working at the school well before he had ever been a student there. It explained why Tom was aging so radically. Yes it was strange, but so was floating objects. Harry had nothing to argue the logic of when everything to him was already illogical. Tomorrow he'd go back to Tom and tell him what happened. He hugged the bear lightly before he went to sleep.

When he woke up much to his horror he couldn't go back to Tom. For days he tried to pull in the feeling, he'd even taken to tripping himself, falling off swing sets and jumping out of trees but for every scratch and bruise he earned himself he garnered no reward. It was during class on a Friday afternoon as he tapped his fingers restlessly on his desk he came up with his worst plan yet.

After class, rather than walking straight home he went to the willow tree he'd been circling relentlessly just days before. First he pulled out the bear and floated it up to the nearest branch. Looking around and deeming it safe, he then focused on his own feet. “Ah!” He was yanked up rather violently into the air, instantly he was hanging upside down, trying to focus to right himself he just jerked up awkwardly but higher, Groaning he realised it wasn't going to work as smoothly as he'd planned so he started to swing like a diadem until he could clutch at tree branch. From there he snatched the bear and monkey climbed the rest of the way up.

Looking down from way up here he felt a hesitance he hadn't felt while skidding across the dirt or letting himself fall from swings. The ground looked genuinely frightening. This tree was perhaps as tall as the school itself so he just sat there, perched in the tree top. The longer he sat there the more his nerves returned to him and just a little bit of his courage came back, however the voice of reason remained. Harry whatever you do, do not jump out of this tree.

 So he jumped.

Warmth engulfed him like a gentle hug and slowly he lulled to the ground and away from the stretching hands of the willow trees branches. He was a mess, his hair blown into his face and his eyes wide. Recognition of his almost suicide attempt sat with him heavily. But by some chance he was still alive, he never made it back to Tom with this final leap and he had been willing to risk his life for it? Harry realised that outside of magic he truly didn't have a life worth living, and now it seemed he no longer anybody to share it with. He got up and brushed himself down and thanked whatever entity above that nobody had seen him in this moment of madness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure what I'm doing, hope you liked it though

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading this, I'm not 100% sure where I'll be taking it. Sorry for the grammatical errors


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